


Something Good

by tuesdaymidnight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Coffee Shop, Danny finally knows, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1259674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaymidnight/pseuds/tuesdaymidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a lousy junior year spent being possessed by the nogitsune and then the subsequent therapy, Stiles is forced to take summer school classes. He studies in a coffee shop where Danny works, and something starts to happen between them. A story of healing, supernatural revealing, and leather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Good

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to wait to post this after the end of 3B to reduce the risk of getting Jossed, but I decided I'm willing to take that risk. There is mention of panic attacks and insomnia in this story. 
> 
> I wrote this for the wonderful and amazing [OnTheTurningAway](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OnTheTurningAway), and then I made her beta it. <3

Stiles didn't like taking Ambien. 

He wanted dreamless sleep, not a nightly replay of metal teeth, samurai swords, the moment when his mom no longer recognized him, and, oddly, killer lawn gnomes. He tried to stick it out, because physically when he woke up he was rested, but the third time he was shaken awake by his dad because he had sleepwalked into the kitchen and was making a fried peanut butter and banana sandwich, he stopped taking it.

He didn't like peanut butter and banana sandwiches. They were his mom's favorite. 

Natural remedies sometimes helped and sometimes they didn't. Therapy helped a little. He couldn't talk about all his demons, but he could talk about his mom and the brain degradation that had luckily been misdiagnosed in his own brain. Another “trick” of the nogitsune. 

He got used to being tired, to catching cat naps when his eyes finally got too heavy. His teachers all knew and would usually let it slide if he sometimes nodded off in class. Coach never did, but since Stiles wasn't playing lacrosse this year, Econ class was the only time Finstock got to yell “Stilinski!”

* * * 

The night before had been one of those nights where he tossed and turned until giving up at 2 a.m. Hours and a pot of coffee later, Stiles leaned against the locker next to Scott's with his eyes closed. He had gotten to school far too early that morning and was waiting for his best friend to arrive. 

As soon as Scott showed up, Stiles didn't even say hey, he just blurted out, “Do I have to ask Danny to the party or are we past that point where, duh, of course we're going together?”

Scott shook his head fondly. “Why wouldn't you go together? I thought you were boyfriends.”

“We are officially as of, like, a week ago. We will. I think. I just don't know if I have to _ask_ him or if he just assumes we're going together.”

“Of course you're going together,” Scott reassured. “And if he goes with anyone else...” He let his fangs drop a little.

“It's creepy when you do that, you know that. You're hanging out with Derek too much.”

“You're the one who encouraged me to invite him into my pack!” 

Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly. Pack dynamics was something they didn't really talk about anymore. Taking care of the alpha pack had managed to bring the wayward wolves of Beacon Hills together, and fighting against the nogitsune deepened their bond, which was great for them, it was. Stiles, on the other hand, well, Scott totally understood why Stiles needed a break from supernatural dealings. 

In fact, Scott had taken the whole ordeal worse than Stiles did. Afterward, he insisted on attending all of Stiles' doctor's appointments, and would always be right there with junk food in hand after therapy sessions. Sometimes he would randomly hug Stiles, just because, and Stiles always clung back a little too tightly. 

Stiles knew he would still get roped into helping now and again, because Beacon Hills seemed to be a literal beacon for bad supernatural shit, and Stiles seemed to be the only one capable of not rushing in with fangs bared. But he was focusing his senior year on being a normal teenager—applying to colleges, cutting class for the sake of cutting class, going to stupid pep rallies, dating. 

Enter: Danny Mahealani.

* * * 

It didn't happen quickly. Danny seemed to accept werewolves more readily than he accepted that Stiles actually wanted to _be_ attractive to gay guys. 

Stiles spent the summer before senior year in summer school. He had to make up both English and History because of the whole not being able to read incident followed by frequent panic attacks when words would swim on the page in front of him sometimes. With enough doctor's notes, they let him take incompletes. But they were a temporary reprieve. So Stiles spent a lot of his summer in Beacon Hills Coffee House reading Bronte and Hawthorne and Melville. 

He didn't realize Danny worked there until after he had fallen in love with the cookies n' cream mocha, or he probably would have found a different place to study. It wasn't that he wanted to hide that he was in summer school exactly, but he'd always had a little crush on Danny, buried under his mostly unhealthy infatuation with Lydia, and Danny was smart. Summer school was a little embarrassing, and Stiles couldn't exactly explain the unfortunate series of events that unfolded in an utterly miserable Junior year. 

But then one day Danny, decked out in a black apron with the logo of the Beacon Hills “skyline” on the front, plopped down across from him and said, “So, werewolves?” It startled Stiles so much, he almost ended up with a lap full of mocha.

“Um, yes?” His mind started following the trails of how Danny found out. Even though he and Ethan were definitely off-again, it could have been him. It was more likely Lydia, but she had gone to Europe for the summer. Maybe Danny still kept in touch with Jackson. 

“Were any of you going to tell me?” Danny demanded.

“Not my secret to tell. Plus, you wouldn't have believed me.”

Stiles had a hard time meeting Danny's eyes, but once Danny succeeded in capturing his gaze, he couldn't look away.

“No, probably not. Not at first anyway,” Danny said finally. 

“So you just figured it out on your own, then?” Stiles asked weakly.

“I've known for a while, but you're the first person to confirm it.”

Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face. 

“Don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone, but you're going to answer some questions for me.”

It wasn't a question. Stiles nodded weakly. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want to know. For what it's worth, I wanted to tell you.”

Danny only nodded and went back behind the counter, leaving Stiles alone on the _Pequod_ looking for a white whale. 

It became a pattern. Stiles would go to class in the morning and then to the coffee house in the afternoon. If Danny was working, he would use his break to sit across from Stiles and ask him questions about all things supernatural—sometimes generic and sometimes about Beacon Hills. 

“Silver bullets?”

“Myth. Wolfsbane works, though.”

“Miguel?”

“Derek Hale. Hereditary lycanthrope.”

“So the fire at the Hale house?”

“Kate Argent, hunter. Allison's aunt.”

There was never confusion or disbelief on Danny's face. He just nodded thoughtfully at those, like yes, of course, that makes sense. Stiles didn't elaborate much, only answering what Danny asked. He wanted to tell him more, but it felt a little like a breach of trust, especially because Stiles neglected to bring it up to any of the others that Danny now knew about the supernatural underbelly of Beacon Hills. It wasn't on purpose exactly; Scott had been dutiful about not bringing up anything supernatural around Stiles, and Stiles didn't really have much to do with any of the others who hadn't fled Beacon Hills for the summer. 

And for whatever reason, Stiles liked having something that was just between him and Danny. Danny never asked to talk to Scott or any of the others. 

One day one of the questions Stiles was dreading came up. 

“So, Jackson?”

“Long story.”

“This is only a ten minute break. Give me the abridged version then.”

Stiles thought for a minute before responding. “Homicidal lizard being controlled via a mind meld, but now he's of the wolf variety.”

Instead of nodding with acceptance like usual, or looking at Stiles in horror, Danny laughed. 

“You're totally serious, aren't you?”

Stiles nodded.

“Giant lizard?”

Stiles nodded again. 

“That explains so much—the camera, the restraining order, the library?” 

“Yeah, the library was before we knew it was Jackson, but it wasn't his fault. He was being controlled by Matt and then by Allison's grandfather.”

“You mean, the creepy old principal we had for like, two weeks?”

“Yeah, he somehow killed Jackson and then brought him back to life, but whatever evil kanima spirit was in him had to die, too.”

“How does that work?”

“No one really knows.” Stiles shrugged. He still didn't understand what Lydia did that night. He had seen it with his own eyes and it still made no sense. It was like the bizarro, werewolf version of star-crossed lovers somehow magically saved Jackson's life.

Danny shook his head. 

“So Lydia's not human either?”

Stiles shook his head. “But did you ever really think she was?”

Danny laughed again, but he gave Stiles a curious look before he went back to work. 

Sometimes Danny would take a longer break and sit with Stiles while he ate his late lunch. Danny never asked questions about what happened to Stiles the previous year. He seemed to realize that it was serious and off limits for coffee shop banter. 

Stiles thought once Danny was filled in about alphas and werewolves and banshees that the questions would stop. But Danny continued to come by, with questions about the accuracy of Buffy and Supernatural that Stiles actually had a fun time analyzing. Eventually normal topics about school and lacrosse and the kids in their grade started to seep in between the analysis of vampires and zombies. 

Stiles got less studying done on those days, but his nights were usually wide open, so he had more than enough time to read about the First Battle of Bunker Hill and Robert E. Lee, and ponder in the wee hours of the morning how many fewer men would have died in the Civil War if the Union had a werewolf army.

One afternoon, he came into the coffee shop and the girl who usually worked the afternoon shift with Danny rang up his order without needing to ask him what it was. When she handed Stiles back his change, which he promptly dropped in the tip jar, she said, “Your boyfriend isn't in today.” 

Stiles' jaw dropped a little. “Danny's not my—he doesn't even _like_ me. He just wants information from me. At least, he did. You don't think he likes me, do you?” 

He thought about how it must have looked; they always kept their voices low and their heads close together for the sake of privacy. The girl, Mary, Stiles read on her name tag, looked at him like he had grown a second head as Stiles rambled on in front of her. 

“Do I think he likes you? He always spends his breaks with you, and the two of you flirt so much, I just assumed. You're really not dating?”

“I'm pretty sure Danny thinks I'm straight.” 

Mary's eyes widened. She didn't say anything but the “you?” was on her face. Stiles sat down at his usual table to study, but he could feel her eyes on him the whole time.

Stiles didn't see Danny over the weekend, and by the time Monday came around, Stiles had mostly forgotten the weird encounter with Mary. But he had barely gotten his books out of his bag before Danny was sitting across from him. 

“So you're bi, then?”

Stiles started choking on his mocha. “Who told you that?”

Danny shrugged, not revealing his source. It had to have been Mary reading into what Stiles divulged to her. Scott was the only person who really knew, though Kira had also guessed, and Lydia knew because Lydia always knew everything. 

“Um, I haven't really been with a guy exactly, but since I'm about 99% positive straight guys don't get off to gay porn, yeah.”

“Oh,” Danny said. “Cool.”

“Yeah, cool. Wait, were you talking about me being bi or gay porn?”

The appearance of Danny's dimples cut through the awkwardness. “Both, I guess.”

Luckily Danny wasn't on an official break, so he had to go back behind the counter, which saved Stiles from having to come up with words that weren't “do you want to sex me up, please?”

On a total whim, Stiles invited Danny over to play Guild Wars that Friday, and Danny shockingly agreed. Getting back into gaming was another piece of Stiles' recovery back into normalcy. His therapist had even suggested it, or she suggested he try to engage in activities that used to be fun for him. His dad didn't even argue when Stiles asked him for a new graphics card. It was like having a doctor-prescribed video games. 

Danny came over after his shift, and it was a just another Friday night between two kind of geeky teenage boys, until somehow they ended up making out on the floor of Stiles' bedroom. Danny needed a break, so he had sprawled out on his back on the floor. Stiles had lain down beside him and they looked up at the star chart poster Stiles had on his ceiling. Stiles tried to ignore the heat radiating off Danny's body and the way his own heart was pounding in his chest. But then he rolled over on his side and Danny was just there. And then they were kissing. 

It was the most normal thing to happen to Stiles since Scott had been bitten. Instead of worrying about all the people he loved being in imminent danger, he was nervous about a boy being interested in him. If he thought he was a good kisser. If there was going to be more kissing.

When his dad asked him why he seemed stressed out the next day, Stiles blurted out, “I kissed Danny.” Instead of acting surprised that Stiles was kissing boys, or giving him the same old line about how he couldn't be gay, his dad hugged him. 

“Kid, that's the best thing I've heard come out of your mouth in two years.”

* * *

Lydia's Halloween party was going to be her triumphant return as queen bee. She didn't have a back-to-school party the year before due to the “incident” and she wanted to do something she hadn't done before, so she went for a costume party. Unlike a typical Lydia Martin party, she opened the invitation to the whole senior class. 

It was also Stiles' coming out party, in a way. 

He was still getting used to having a relationship that was, well, an actual relationship based on mutual attraction with someone who was mentally stable. On top of that there were the looks in the hallways, the hushed voices around him saying, “Stilinski's gay?”

He didn't respond to the gossipers or correct them. It wasn't like he ever cared what they thought anyway. He had never been popular and just because his life was starting to feel semi-normal again, he wasn't going to start being popular now, even if he was dating the practically universally-liked Danny. 

The relationship was too new for him to step back from it and care what anyone else thought. He still wasn't even sure if he needed to ask Danny to Lydia's party or not. 

Later that morning in biology, Allison dropped down in the seat next to Stiles. Things had finally stopped being weird between her and Scott and Isaac, but Stiles was still wary of her. No one needed to tell him; he knew that when he was under the influence of the nogitsune, Allison would not have hesitated to put an arrow between his eyes. That cool detachment never sat well with him. He had been assigned her lab partner, though, and a tentative friendship, independent of hunting things that go bump in the night, had formed between them. 

“Have you asked Danny to Lydia's party yet?” Allison asked. 

Stiles leaned over to the next lab table and punched Scott in the arm.

“Scott told me I didn't have to ask.”

“I think it would be a nice gesture. It shows that you still want him even if you already have him.”

“Of course I want him. Have you _seen_ my boyfriend?” Stiles couldn't contain his grin at the word 'boyfriend.'

“That's not what I meant and you know it.”

“So are you taking a date to the party?” Stiles teased. 

Allison blushed. “We're not talking about me.” 

Stiles didn't push it. Whatever love triangle was currently happening among the McCall Pack of Misfit Creatures was mostly off his radar. That in itself was a refreshing thought. Stiles actually had his own love life to think about.

“Fine,” Stiles conceded. “I'll ask him right after class.”

They weren't yet to the point where Stiles could comfortably walk up to Danny and greet him with a kiss or lace his fingers through Danny's with practiced ease. Of course, Stiles was probably never going to be smooth enough to do that. He tried to lean casually against Danny's locker, but wound up banging his shoulder into the metal, letting out a loud, “son of a bitch,” while Danny tried not to laugh. 

“So, um, hi?”

“What is it?” There was an exasperation that lingered in Danny's voice sometimes, except, Stiles had found, right after he had come. The fact that Stiles could make Danny sex stupid was still a novelty that he didn't think would wear off any time soon. 

“Nothing bad! Everything's good. It's just that I was talking to Scott about dating and I should never get advice from Scott. As soon as he started dating Kira, he changed his password to “Kira.” But then I talked to Allison and she said I should ask you even if it was assumed because you're totally my boyfriend now. You're not having second thoughts about that are you?”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I will go to Lydia's party with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Stiles.” Danny looked up at Stiles and grinned. Stiles couldn't resist going in for a kiss. He never failed to melt at the sight of Danny's dimples.

His own smile still lingered on his lips as he pulled back. “What are your thoughts on matching costumes?”

* * * 

Sometimes Stiles thought Danny was only indulging him because he felt sorry for him. 

After the summer session was over, Stiles didn't have a reason to be at the coffee shop every day, but he still went a couple days a week, mostly to talk to Danny during his break. They spent more time with each other outside of work instead, and while it meant more kissing, it also meant that the barrier of being in a public place no longer applied. 

The more time they spent with each other, the more everything that happened to Stiles came spilling out. Danny listened sympathetically. He didn't push Stiles with questions about Stiles' panic attacks or his nightmares or what it felt like to have something else sharing his body, controlling him, taking away his will. 

He told Danny enough that it would have been easy for Danny to pity him. But there was also that exasperated fondness in his voice sometimes that felt like a lot more than just him wanting to make-out with Stiles and play video games. 

They didn't talk as much as they should, about the reason why Stiles often had bags under his eyes and why Danny would wake up to a series of emails with links to internet memes that Stiles sent him at 3 a.m.

His dad was so thrilled that the thing occupying Stiles' time was just a boy, a human boy, that as summer vacation wound down, he didn't even enforce the 'no sleepovers with people you want to have sex with' rule. Danny slept in the guest bedroom with the door open, of course. It was the only way his parents agreed he could stay over once they found out that Stiles was more than a friend. But the sheriff never said anything when he peeked in and found Stiles wrapped around Danny in the guest bed. If Danny's presence helped Stiles sleep, then the Sheriff wasn't about to disrupt them. 

As school started, they still hadn't talked about what they were doing. They had only been hanging out and fooling around for about a month, and even though Stiles wanted to be doing more than just fooling around, he never seemed to get around to saying anything about it. 

Danny had lacrosse practice, they both were in three AP classes, and Stiles was trying to put more effort into school than he had the last two years. They still saw each other. They studied together a few days a week. Danny even stayed up way too late on school nights playing Guild Wars online, because Stiles couldn't do all the missions alone. 

They definitely still fooled around every chance they got. Stiles finally understood Scott's Allison-obsession sophomore year, because sex—sex was awesome. 

Danny was really good at sucking cock. If there had been an AP class for sucking cock, Danny could have taught it. It was a Saturday in October when Danny had apparently sucked the self-consciousness right out of Stiles when Stiles thought it would be a good idea to blurt out, “Are we dating?” While his dick was still hanging out of his jeans.

Danny sat back on his heels and looked up at Stiles with confusion. “You want to?”

“I spent almost every day with you this summer, of course I want to.”

“You know if you date me, you'll be gay. I mean, I know you're bi, but everyone else, everyone who doesn't know you, they'll see you as gay. It's not always easy. I mean, I haven't had much trouble here in Beacon Hills, but I understand why you wouldn't want to....”

“Do you like me?” Stiles asked in response.

“Yes, Stiles. I like you.”

“Then that's all that matters.” He added softly, “Life's short.”

* * * 

The day after their Halloween party date was set, they went to the only costume shop in Beacon Hills. The only reason why it stayed in business was because they also did alterations and tailoring. Nothing in the store was well-displayed so they had to dig through every unmarked rack. Costumes for kids were mixed in with dominatrix costumes and clown suits. 

They didn't have much luck at first, until Danny made a gleeful noise and pulled out a costume.

“What about this for me?” Danny said, holding it up in front of him. 

Stiles turned to look. His jaw dropped as he stared at the Batman costume with his eyes glazed over. Danny snapped his fingers in front of Stiles' face. 

“Stiles? What is going on in your head right now?” He winced. “Please filter as necessary.”

“You. In a leather Batman suit. That's it. No filter needed.”

“Oh.”

Then Stiles looked up at Danny through his lashes. It usually worked to get his way for reasons that Stiles couldn't fathom. Danny walked over to the mirror. Stiles came up behind him and hooked his chin over Danny's shoulder. 

“If you want to coordinate, you know this makes you Robin,” Danny said. 

“Cool Joseph Gordon-Levitt Robin, and not underwear-over-his-tights Robin?”

“He was mostly in a cop uniform, I don't know if anyone would get it. What about Catwoman?”

“Me in a leather catsuit?”

“I'm wearing leather.”

Stiles groaned, turned Danny toward him by grabbing the front of his shirt, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Yeah, you are.”

A throat clearing in the background was the only thing that stopped Stiles from pushing Danny into the dressing room and having his way with him. He stepped back, red in the face, and tried to give an “on his best behavior” look toward the saleswoman. 

“I could wear a tux and go as Alfred,” Stiles suggested.

“Not fair. If I have to look ridiculous, you do too.”

“Trust me, you won't look ridiculous,” Stiles said, his eyes still glazed over a little. 

“Maybe a villain instead?”

“What about the Joker.” As soon as Stiles said it, he froze and his face went ashen. When he thought of the Joker, he didn't think of the comic book version or Jack Nicholson, but the haunted—almost possessed—version that Heath Ledger had brought to the screen. Stiles thought of the asylum and the gray clothing and every horrible second of feeling out of control, and his chest started to tighten in fear.

A hand squeezing his brought him back into the moment. Danny was looking at him with such concern that Stiles had to look away or run the risk of crying in public. He didn't let go of Danny's hand for the rest of the time they were in the store.

In the end, Stiles decided he could pull off The Riddler.

* * * 

One night right before the school year started, Stiles had a particularly awful dream about finding his mom under the nemeton and her not recognizing him, and he woke up screaming, twisted in his sheets. The nogitsune's voice was still resonating in his room and he thought his heart would actually pound out of his chest. 

Stiles looked around frantically, but he was definitely alone, in his body, all in one piece.

His dad was staying over at Melissa's, a thought that Stiles didn't like to dwell on too much. His dad deserved happiness and Stiles loved Melissa, but, well, he didn't want to consider the dirty details of what that meant. Scott had offered to stay over that night, but it was a full moon, and it felt too much like babysitting. 

Even so, Stiles scrolled to Scott's number immediately. But then he hesitated. Scott was probably with his pack or alone with Kira, also trying to stay scarce while his mom and Stiles' dad were doing whatever it was Stiles wasn't going to think about them doing. 

So Stiles scrolled up to Danny's number and hit call before he could second guess himself. It took a few rings before a very sleepy voice answered.

“I'm sorry to call you. I know it's late. I just...” Stiles' voice was a hoarse whisper. “I don't know how long I was screaming.”

“I can come over,” Danny said immediately. 

“No, no. It's okay now that I'm awake. Can you just, maybe, talk to me? For a little while?”

“What do you want me to talk about?”

“I don't know. Anything.”

So Danny told Stiles the first thing that came into his head—the story of how the goddess Hina brought the coconut to Hawaii that his grandmother used to tell him when he was he was a kid. 

“Will you be able to sleep now?” Danny asked.

“Probably not. But I don't feel disconnected and out of control anymore.”

Sometimes that was good enough. 

* * * 

Danny came to Stiles' house to pick him up for the party. He was in full costume. It looked a little silly for Batman to step out of his mother's Toyota Camry, but Danny himself was masked, and except for the cape, was dressed from head to toe in black leather. 

Stiles opened the door and gasped. 

“Holy fucking shit, you look hot.”

Stiles crowded Batman Danny up against the door, and then pressed his lips to Danny's urgently. His nose bumped into the mask before he pushed his tongue into Danny's mouth. Danny grabbed the lapels of Stiles' suit and tugged him even closer into his space. Stiles moaned and pushed his thigh between Danny's.

“Stiles,” Danny said with a groan. “We're in your living room.”

“My dad's already gone. Extra Halloween patrols,” Stiles lowered his voice. “Let's not go to the party.”

“I didn't rent a Batman costume just so we could role play.”

“Knock, knock,” Stiles said.

“A knock-knock joke isn't a riddle.”

“Just shut up and get on the sofa so I can suck you off,” Stiles said as he unfastened Danny's cape, letting it fall to the floor right in front of the door. 

Danny, surprised at Stiles' confidence, did exactly what Stiles asked, settling himself on the couch, readjusting himself in the too-tight leather. Usually Stiles let him take the lead. Sex with another person was new to Stiles, and “smooth” wasn't exactly his game. 

“I've never seen this happen to Batman,” Danny said as he watched Stiles take off his Riddler's jacket. 

“I've got one!” Stiles replied. “What has two thumbs and likes blow jobs.”

Danny shook his head, but his dimples betrayed him. Stiles grinned back as he settled in between Danny's legs and traced his fingers up Danny's chest. 

“How are you this hot? Why did Jackson think Scott was on steroids when his own best friend stepped off the pages of Beefcake Monthly?”

“Beefcake?”

“You heard me,” Stiles said before licking his lips. 

Danny lifted his hips so Stiles could peel the leather pants down past his thighs. As good as Danny looked encased in leather, his legs were kind of amazing with nothing covering them up. Stiles had never been a leg man, girls or guys, but it was impossible not to wax poetic at the sinewy muscles of Danny's legs, especially when they were wrapped around Stiles while their cocks were sliding against each other. 

They hadn't had full-on, penetrative sex yet. Stiles wasn't ready for it and Danny had been able to show Stiles enough ways to get off that Stiles didn't feel any sort of pressure to do it. 

Stiles didn't tease or take his eyes off the prize. He just ran his tongue up Danny's cock to get it wet and then wrapped his lips around it and went down. Danny exhaled with a “yeah” and then brought his hand to rest on the back of Stiles' neck while Stiles set a steady rhythm. He was starting to get good at the whole breathing through his nose and not worrying if it was a little sloppy thing, but there was something he had been wanting to try. 

He pulled off Danny's dick. “Hey, I don't know if you're into it, but can I, you know, like you do for me?”

Danny nodded his assent and followed it with a groan as Stiles sat up and sucked his index finger into his mouth.

“You know your fingers are really fucking distracting.”

Stiles' eyes went wide. “My fingers?” 

Danny bit his lip and nodded.

Stiles smiled devilishly as he sucked a finger into his mouth, licked around it, and then pulled it back out slowly. Danny's dick pulsed against his abdomen. Stiles did it again. Danny's cock jumped again.

“Oh man,” Stiles said.

“Stiles, don't abuse your powers.”

“You mean with great power there must also come great responsibility?”

“Maybe I should have gone as Spiderman.”

“Nuh uh,” Stiles said. “I can't date someone who would go Marvel over DC.”

Danny's protest was cut off as Stiles ran a finger around the rim of Danny's hole. It twitched at the touch, and Stiles grinned again. He did feel a rush of power. Danny had done this to him more than once, there was even talk of using toys, and it felt weird but awesome. He had no idea it would feel so good being on the giving side. 

Stiles pushed his middle finger in with one slow thrust, twisting it around to feel the soft heat. 

“God, Stiles.” 

Stiles fucked his finger in and out, watching Danny fall apart in front of him. When Danny started to get impatient, Stiles went back down and started sucking. He could no longer watch Danny's reactions, but he felt them, and it wasn't long before Danny was warning Stiles. 

Stiles hummed in reply, and then swallowed as Danny pulsed into his mouth. 

Once he released Danny's cock, he leaned forward and smiled into Danny's thigh. Jumping Danny's bones when he showed up to pick him up for a date was something good, something normal. 

They showed up to the party late. Lydia looked them both up and down and shook her head. 

Danny looked relatively put together, but his cape was wrinkled and his lips a little kiss-swollen. There had been a lot of making out while Danny jerked Stiles off in repayments. Stiles' hair and his suit never fully recovered.

Lydia was too careful to let a keg into her house, but alcohol was still flowing readily. There was music and dancing and people splashing around in the pool. Danny went over to talk to Greenberg and some of the other lacrosse guys while Stiles went to track down Scott. He hadn't told Stiles what his costume was going to be, but as soon as Stiles saw a shiny black cape, he cracked up.

“Dracula, Scott? Really?”

Someone tapped him on his shoulder. He spun around.

“And Van Helsing?”

“You like it?” Kira said, showing off her long black coat, leather vest and hat. “Allison was going to let me borrow a crossbow, but Lydia vetoed.”

“Probably for the best.”

He talked to his friends for a while, and then he went to find Danny. He didn't get very far before the house started to feel hot and crowded. There were people he didn't recognize, and the music was loud and pulsing, and it was suddenly too much. He pushed his way through the kitchen and out to the backyard. 

It was still loud and full of people, but at least he could breathe again. He found an empty ledge and sat down, taking in huge gulps of air. 

Lydia appeared from somewhere, dressed as Marilyn Monroe, and sat down beside him. She cut right to the chase. “Stiles are you having a panic attack?”

“No, I'm all right. I just needed some air.”

But it wasn't all right. Stiles remembered the last time he was there for a party. The image of his dad blaming him for his mother's death was something that had always stayed with him, even through the possession and the memory loss and the insomnia and the therapy. 

“Stiles?” Lydia obviously didn't believe him. 

“I just need...” Stiles trailed off and put his head down between his knees. He started taking slow, deep breaths. It wasn't really a panic attack, not exactly. He just needed the jumble of memories and thoughts in his head to stop racing and it would be okay. 

Stiles felt a hand on his shoulder and the solid, familiar warmth of Danny beside him.

“Stiles, are you okay?”

Stiles looked up into those deep brown eyes that were filled with concern. Part of him wanted to admit defeat, but he was getting so tired of feeling so weak, so he said, “Yeah, it's fine. It's nothing. I'm fine.”

He wasn't really, but it was easier than the alternative. Lydia stood off to the side, the fear in her face unconcealed. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Danny asked. 

Stiles looked around at the party, at the high school cliches and his classmates blissfully unaware of what true terror, true loss, felt like, and he wondered how Lydia did it. How she could compartmentalize it all with everything that had happened. 

Danny's hand on the small of his back grounded him, and Stiles broke a little. He leaned against him, and let himself feel grateful for the support

“Do you mind?”

“I really, really don't.” 

Lydia let them out the back gate, assuring Stiles she'd tell everyone he was okay. It was just a normal fear response, a flashback, and not anything to upset the supernatural balance of the universe. 

“You can just drop me off and go back,” Stiles said as Danny pulled up to the Stilinski's house.

Danny ignored him and shut off the car before leading Stiles into the house. Danny tossed his keys on the table in the entryway and went into the living room. He sat down on the couch where they had been just two hours before. When Stiles' world had been light and normal and good. 

“Come here,” Danny said.

“I'm really sorry about this,” Stiles started. “It was stupid, nothing. I just...”

“Stiles, shut up and come here.” There was a calmness in Danny's voice that made Stiles obey him. 

Danny rearranged their bodies until Stiles felt securely trapped by Danny's broad frame. 

“You don't have to pretend, you know.” 

“I just want to be normal again,” Stiles confessed. 

“After what you went through, insomnia and panic attacks _are_ normal.”

Stiles knew that, he did. It was a common lesson he got from his therapist, but for some reason when Danny said it, it actually made him feel better. Danny wasn't paid to tell him that, and he wasn't running away from Stiles like he was a burden or a mess he didn't want to clean up. 

Stiles sank back against Danny's chest. Danny was hot and smart and funny, and Stiles liked hanging out with him, but it was more than that. Stiles could fall asleep with Danny there. Danny could pull him out of a panic attack. Danny understood why Stiles was going through all of this, and beyond all reason he was still there holding onto him like it mattered to him if Stiles was all right. The thought made Stiles' heart catch in his throat. 

For the first time in a long time, Stiles felt like everything might be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tuesdaymidnight on tumblr, twitter, etc. Follow me and we can talk about dimples. :)


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